


The marks they made

by TriscuitsandSoup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fox Stiles, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Rain, Reflection, Wolf Peter, mentioned Derek Hale/Scott Mccall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriscuitsandSoup/pseuds/TriscuitsandSoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He smelt the air again, but he smelt nothing of what Peter had said. The only aroma he caught was the wet scent of dampened leaves and earth. It didn't matter though, soon the rain would come and wash everything away again. The rain and nature would eventually reclaim everything. <i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The marks they made

It was going to rain soon, he could smell it in the air. The moisture from the previous rain still clung to the windows. Stiles hair was already dripping and wet but not from that; from the shower. He stood out on the porch in bare feet, letting the humid, earthy smell fill his nostrils. He didn't mind the damp leaves that crumbled underfoot, or that he was getting dirty again after spending half an hour trying to get clean, not that Peter had helped. 

“What do you smell?” Stiles asked, tilting his head to one side. Peter stood next to him, arms crossed and resting on the railing. His hair was wet too. 

“Same as you,” Peter said. 

“That's a lie,” Stiles lips twitched into a smile. “Tell me, really.”

“Fine,” Peter sighed. He leaned back from the railing and moved behind the human to wrap his arms around his torso. They were just as warm as his bare chest. Stiles leaned his head back and let Peter rest his head on top of his. 

“I smell water. I smell the scent of the opossum who lives under the shed, and her kits. I smell the flowers blooming on the side of the house. I smell the pine trees and the sap.” He stopped speaking and stared out into the so-familiar woods. “I smell _them_.” Stiles waited for the answer he knew was coming. “I smell _you_.” 

Peter dove his nose down into Stiles hair and nuzzled his brunette locks. Stiles chuckled and the grip on him tightened and he turned his head up to receive a planted kiss on his forehead. 

“Which one is the strongest?” he asked. He already knew the answer. 

“ _You_.” Peters hand grasped at his chin and pushed his head to his side. Stiles didn't resistant the movement. He felt Peters nose move from his head to his throat and kiss along his jugular vein. 

“Because I'm closest?” He could feel Peters smirk against his skin.

He looked out at the forest, at the trees still dripping from their leaves, casting away those that were too weak to cling to their branches. The falling sun and the graying clouds set everything to a yellow tint. The puddles that remained from the earlier rain were filled with leaves that the earth tried to wash away. She failed this time, but she would always win in the end.

“Because you're closest to _me_.” Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Peter released his chin and placed his hand against his waist. His head dropped down to rest against his shoulder.

He smelt the air again, but he smelt nothing of what Peter had said. The only aroma he caught was the wet scent of dampened leaves and earth. It didn't matter though, soon the rain would come and wash everything away again. The rain and nature would eventually reclaim everything. 

“Do you want to go for a run with me?” he asked, opening his eyes and pulling himself out of Peters grasp. Peters eyes glinted and he tilted his head to one side. 

“We just showered,” he pointed out. “We'll get wet.” Stiles grinned. 

“We can shower again when we get back.” Peter rumbled his approval in a growl. His shoulders rippling with anticipation. 

In a second the brunette boy disappeared and in his place stood a russet fox with blackened ears. His paws braced against the steps of the porch and he leapt into the air. He hit the ground just as the rain started to fall once more from the darkened sky. It hit his back in a cool wash and he jumped again to land in a rapidly deepening puddle.

Peter snarled as he was splashed, wincing away from the wetness. A second later and the Peter he knew was gone, replaced by a wolf he knew just as well. Maybe more. His fur was black with a mottling of grey around the muzzle and on his underside. Stiles proudly wondered if he was the only creature in the forest to ever view Peters willingly exposed belly. He knew for certain he was the only one allowed to climb on top and settle himself down on a heat soaked day when the sun was high and the air was dry, nuzzling their muzzles together. Peter would gruff as he was disturbed from his nap, but the fox weighed next to nothing and he would be allow him to sleep on top of his chest with the sun on his back and the birds chirps in their ears. 

The wolf growled at him and lowered his haunches in anticipation of a chase. The fox yipped an excited call and whirled around in a blur of orange and black and raced into the trees. 

The wolf howled and he followed the ostentatiously colored animal into the woods. 

As they ran the rain washed away the scents they left, leaving no trace of where they'd gone. The flowers, the opossums, and even the pines were cleaned of their abundant smells and left blank, to come back renewed when the skies had settled. The took shelter underneath the roots of a tree and pressed their furry bodies together, Stiles vastly overshadowed by the dark wolf he cuddled up too. Peter would grumble that it was all his fault that they got trapped their together, and Stiles would happily take the blame, basking in the warmth of his love. 

Later, when Derek and Scott ran through the preserve they would have no inkling that Stiles and Peter ran a similar path, disappearing underneath the very same burrow that they did. The only trace they had been there at all were four footprints left in the mud that neither Scott nor Derek bothered to notice. If they actually looked they might have seen that one set was too small for Scott, and the other two large for Derek. But they didn't see.

The rain and nature would eventually wash even those away, but in the meantime they were all proud of the marks they made.


End file.
